DjinnKeeper

Chuck's Actions Week 1

2 actions I will scout further out into the nearby area. I will focus on doing so stealthily. I will spend a 3rd if I don’t find a raid-able settlement.

If I find a poorly defended village (will not do if all I find is heavily guarded cities):
1 action stealing resources from the village. I will focus on doing so stealthily. I will have a priority towards finding:
-pot (as requested by gathers)
-tools/weapons (shovels, hammers, axes, etc)
-pack(s) to carry stuff in
-anything magic related (unlikely from a lowly village but I won’t snub my nose at it)

I’d also like to take a Rotted Doghide Jerkin and soapstone knife to help in case of trouble for both actions. Also I’m going to bring along another orc for both actions just in case of trouble and to carry more stuff if I do find goodies to steal. Pat since you said you didn’t really prefer, I’d say we should explore separately and cover more ground.

I’ll spend another one inventing. I will try to back engineer something I find in my scouting/raiding. If I don’t find anything that we don’t already have then I reverse-engineer a pickaxe instead since others are already doing hammer and spear. (I didn’t see pickaxe in our blueprint list but I may have missed it)

[AP to Use:2+1?+1+1]

Diplomacy for Henrich Von Ruk-Ruk The Third, Esquire. (He’s nobility, you know. His Father was Lord of a Hamlet. That is to say, he had three pigs who swore fealty to him, and would dig up truffles for him. They lived in a Stone Cottage up in Fredricksburg, rather nice area, actually. You should stop by for tea some time.)

[A Dance, A Song, Your Doghide Jerkin, Your Knife, A favor at a later date]
[3, The Shirt off your Back]

“I do say, old boy, that is a mighty fine Jerkin you’ve got there.. I’ll tell you what, hand it over, and you have a deal.”
[You lose the Doghide Jerkin, Ruk-Ruk now has it.]
[Ruk-Ruk has agreed to follow you for the period of:
1d5 Weeks (0 Sides: your Diplomacy skill bonus)(2 Sides: Infamous) [roll: 1d7, Roll is: 5]

“I’ll allow you my services for a period of five weeks for such a fine prize. Of course, if you wish me to leave your services early, simply say so.”

Ruk-Ruk will now perform the actions you command him to, for the period of 5 weeks, as Free Actions. Actions that are suicidal, take things from him, or are just plain stupid, will require a new diplomacy roll. He is your Henchman for Five Turns.

You have a bonus reduction to enemy DC due to RukRuks crit earlier.
Normal DC for stealthing on unaware adventurers is DC 10 + level.

(You are robbing their camp, not the adventurers, so stealth matters more than pickpocket. If you were robbing the sleeping adventurers, it would be both stealth AND pickpocket rolls. Failing either gets you caught. you don’t want to get caught here.. I’m not ready to reveal adventurer stats yet.. because the stats required to avoid them.)

RukRuk’s Finds:
Book, (Skillbook) (did you know that we have 38 skills in the game right now?) [Smithing] (Beginner, Intermediate, Expert, Masters) [Masters] (WHATTHEHELLRUKRUK) (Masters books qualify for 1d100 exp, can be read only once per player for EXP, but is not consumed when read. Meaning that everyone can take turns reading it, as long as only one person reads it a week.)
[69 Exp on this one]

(Pickpocket would have drastically increased your yields here, but I wasn’t going to risk it without you specifying you wanted to do it, especially since you’d probably fail, anyway. BTW, if you want to gain pickpocket, there are only three ways to do it. One involves killing something. Just saying.)

[Simple Short Pole]
[Carpentry]
[Produces 5]
[No Default Bonuses or Negatives]
[Can be used to replace Small, Medium, and Long Hilts in Tools]
[Cost to build: 1 (Any Kind) Long Pole, Requires an (Any Kind) Axe (Or Any Kind Saw) to Produce]

You Sense something is “Not Quite Right” about the equipment that you found in the Dungeon..

It doesn’t seem to follow what you know of crafting knowledge, as if it was drawn in from another world..

Carpentry Experience Gained: 10

Fluff:
huck. Chuck from middle management. Chuck from accounting. Chuck Da Righteous. He was known by many names in the real world. They all depended on who you were. None of them really defined him all too well. He had led a fairly lackluster life, up until then. Seven AM, wake up. Make a pot of coffee. Take a shower. Shave. Drink coffee. Read the newspaper. Go to work.

Sit in front of a computer for three hours. Try to organize and keep employees working the rest of the day. Corporate e-mails. No promotion. Flirt with Debra in the mail room. Go home. Videogames. Sleep.

Every day was the same thing, on repeat. Now here he was, inside of an Orc, a creature that would make any muscle-builder, any strong man, jealous. It was time for an adventure. Excitement filled him, as he headed into the storage room, grabbing a rotted, doghide jerkin, and a soapstone knife. Armed and dangerous, he jogged around the mines, until he came across a solitary orc, sitting by himself in a corner, eyes shut, legs crossed in a lotus position.

“Hey, Orc, You come with Chuck? Big Adventure, Yes?”

The orc opened first one eye, then the other.

“Pardon me, good sir?” The response was a perfectly enunciated accent.. back home, Chuck would have expected it from a stuffy Brit. Confusion furrowed his brow for a moment, and the orc let out a quiet sigh. “You do not need to speak to me as if I am some country bumpkin. Despite the insufferable situation we find ourselves in, I assure you, I am no lowborn, uneducated barbarian. My name is Henrich Von Ruk-Ruk the Third, Esquire. My father was Nomnom Von Ruk-Ruk, Lord of the Hamlet.”

“Uh.. The Hamlet?” Chuck scratched the back of his head, pondering to himself.. ‘Orcish nobility, here? That should be an interesting story..’

“Yes..” Continued Ruk-Ruk, standing up slowly and brushing the dust from his ragged cloth pants. “He owned several pigs, who he would take truffle-hunting quite frequently. It purchased him a goodly piece of land, and a large stone cottage. It was up near Fredricksburg, unfortunately, the Culinary Institute of Atlantis went under.. no pun intended, of course, and that caused the truffle bubble to burst. He lost his pigs, and the cottage, I’m afraid.. which leads to me being here, in such dire straights.”

“Well.. I was just gonna go and hunt around for some stuff.. I figured maybe you’d like to come along?”

Ruk-Ruk considered the offer for a moment, looking Chuck up and down appraisingly. Finally, after a long pause, he spoke..

“Well, old chap, that does sound like it could be some good sport.. I will make you a deal. That is a rather fine shirt you have. As you can see, I lack a shirt. Ergo, if you were to bequeath upon me your shirt, I shall offer myself up in your employ, for a period of five weeks, or when you offer me reprieve from the debt, which ever may come about more rapidly.”

“Yeah, sure, you got a deal, Mr. Ruk-Ruk.” Chuck stated flatly, extracting himself from the jerkin, and handing it over to Ruk-Ruk, who quickly donned it. Chuck was not happy that this NPC did not willingly go along, and he was feeling unbalanced by the mental prowess it obviously showcased. He definitely went into the situation the wrong way, but he would learn from it, and adjust.

Twenty minutes later, they were traveling along the road outside of the mine, with the moon shining down on them. Occasionally, a cloud would drift across it, obscuring the dusty, dirt path they traveled. Fortunately for them, this also made campfires rather visable, and it was not long before Chuck felt a broad arm cross his chest, bringing him to an immediate stop. A whispered “Duck” reached his ear, and he did just that, slipping into some bushes with Ruk-Ruk.

“Over there, you see? About fifty yards as the crow flies..” whispered Ruk-Ruk. Chuck followed the path of his finger, and nodded. He could see it. Ahead of them, to the right of the road, three adventurers were setting up camp. Even as they watched, one of them began to stomp out the fire, while the other two slipped into their tents. There was something else there, in the dark.

“They’ve all gone to bed now, my good man. Let us wait twenty minutes, and they will surely be asleep.” Twenty five minutes later, Chuck and Ruk-Ruk crept into the camp. Sure enough, the adventurers were asleep. With quiet footsteps and careful movements, they began to loot the campsite. Ruk-Ruk approached Chuck once more, warning him away from the object they had seen from a distance. Inside was a human man, roughly twenty-five years old, dressed in ragged clothing, and manacled to the bars of the wooden cage he was trapped within. The man was currently asleep, leaning against the wall, as the manacles did not allow him to lay down.

In the end, they decided to avoid the man, for now, and simply loot what they could from the campsite. They did not want to try to face three adventurers, and they soon set back to the mines with their haul; An old cooking pot, an old shovel, a book titled “How to be a Cokehead: Smithing Like a Grandmaster”, a pair of leather gauntlets that are humming with magic, and a halberd that was more of a staff with a carved, sharpened blade upon the end, obviously having belonged to the captured brigand, who was worth at least twenty five gold coins, judging by the “WANTED!” posters they found sitting next to the campfire.

On their way back, Ruk-Ruk stopped Chuck once more, earning his keep when he pointed out a small bit of dull, grey stone jutting out nearby the mines.. “That would be Lead, my good man. My father had a goblet made of lead, you know. Fine metal, he swore it made everything he drank sweeter. Perhaps, one day, I’ll have a lead goblet of my own. Come forth, then, let us head back into the mines, and I shall give you our spoils, to divvy out as you see fit.”

Chuck spent the rest of his time that week reverse-engineering one of the pickaxes, discovering how to do so. During the process, he accidentally broke the pole in half, and realized it would work just fine like that, discovering how to make tools more efficiently, by substituting a short pole for things that used to require a longer pole. “It’s all a matter of weight distribution!” he exclaimed, as he explained it to the other D’jinn Born. Everyone nodded, and wandered off to do their own thing once more.